by Steve Richer
He was about to insert the key into the ignition when a pair of eyes appeared in the rearview mirror. It was Clara.
Before he could do anything, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
“Why aren’t I dead yet?” he asked while gently sliding his hand over the gym bag on the passenger seat.
“I should ask you the same thing, Spicer.”
He kept his eyes riveted on hers through the mirror. She was as cold as he’d ever seen her.
He said, “You know the game, when a job’s over you move on to the next one. I doubt anyone’s desperate enough to want me dead. I don’t kill anymore.”
He used the cover of his voice to slide his hand inside the bag.
“You were the best once, weren’t you? And you just had to show everyone, didn’t you?”
He dismissed her tone filled with resentment. How very unprofessional. “We have the same background, you and me. We both know we’re not in the revenge business. We don’t make things personal.”
“That’s what your friend Kilmer said before I shot him.”
What went down next happened exactly at the same time. Clara extended her arm further while she squeezed the trigger.
For this part, Spicer pushed himself down and to his right as he drew the Taurus handgun from the bag.
Her shot exploded thunderously through the windshield and Spicer aimed his gun between the two front seats. Running on instincts, he pulled the trigger three times.
Clara’s face was riddled with bullets, blood spraying wildly through the car and her body being thrown backwards where she bounced against the window. In the process she squeezed off one last round which blasted through the front console, sending sparks flying.
Straightening up, he shot her in the head one last time just to be sure. The rear and side windows were covered with blood and he became queasy. He welcomed the sensation, it meant he was really done with killing.
After catching his breath, he stepped out of the car and hurriedly scanned the parking garage. It was midmorning and there were no witnesses. He closed the door and opened the trunk again. He pulled out his suitcase before throwing the gun and keys in the trunk.
He reached for his passports, ID, and extra cash from the red gym bag and tossed it in the trunk as well. It really was over now. He would surely be linked to what had just gone down but he could sweat it out down in Mexico. Besides, Clara Mailley’s identity would set off alarms over at Langley. It was in their interest to cover up this crime.
He would miss Esther dearly but it was temporary. Hell, maybe he could convince her to join him down in the tropics. Walking out of the garage and into the glimmering daylight with the suitcase, he looked forward to the future. His hands weren’t trembling anymore. He was at peace.
Doing the right thing did wonders for the soul.
THE END
About the Author
Steve Richer has been writing professionally for over a decade, notably for publications such as Askmen.com. He is a devout fan of researching little-known historical events. He splits his time between Montreal and South Florida.
You can visit Steve at SteveRicherBooks.com on Facebook, and on Twitter.
Also by Steve Richer
The Kennedy Secret
The Gilded Treachery
The Atomic Eagle
Dying For Money
The Apprentice Spy
Barbie Cute
Wall Street Ranger
Business, Pleasure and Murder
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
About the Author
